iWant to be Friends
by Leea Gardner
Summary: When Freddie walks in on Sam Puckett doing something Sam Puckett should never do, he's not sure how he'll react. Or how she will, for that matter. He hopes she doesn't break his nose... Seddie.
1. iAm Screwed

**A/N: Something fun (: Also, the chapters in this story will probably be shorter than I usually am—I dunno, I recently decided I liked shorter chapters more. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Chapter One**

"Freddie, it's just _one _tick bath—"

"No," Freddie said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. His mother gave him a pathetic, helpless look.

"At least wear the under—"

"_NO._" Another uncomfortable pause. Lately, this had been the norm at the Benson household. Freddie's mom may have promised to 'lay off' the protective crap, but she never promised that it would be _easy_. Freddie continued to stare her down, willing her to say one more thing. And of course, she would. This had been routine for weeks. In Marissa Benson's eyes, the longer she persisted and the more she annoyed him about it, the faster he would cave. In Freddie Benson's eyes, the more she persisted, the faster he got pissed off and left. And leave he would—_just one more thing_, he thought, _I _dare_ you_.

"How about a prune pop?"

Ah, there it was. The final straw. Freddie didn't say a word—he spun on his heel and stormed out of the apartment while his mother called, "Freddie! Don't leave! Freddie! Your inhaler!"

He didn't even _have _asthma. With a grunt and a roll of his brown eyes, Freddie strode across the hallway and knocked on the door to the Shay's apartment. He knew his mom wouldn't follow him here—she'd done it once, and the result hadn't been pretty.

"Come in!" Spencer shouted. Freddie twisted the handle and slid into the apartment. Spencer was working on a sculpture—that _was_ a sculpture, right? It kind of just looked like a cardboard box…that Spencer was currently spray-painting purple.

"Hey Spencer," Freddie murmured, standing in front of the television.

"Hey Fred-o, how goes it?"

"Not good. Mom's driving me nuts."

"What else is new? Carly's not home, she's having lunch with granddad."

"That's okay, I have some technical changes I needed to make anyways," He lied easily. He could put in a movie or something upstairs—Carly couldn't eat lunch forever.

"Alright, good luck with your nerd stuff."

"Good luck with your artsy stuff."

"Thanks."

Freddie trotted up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and turned the handle to the studio. As soon as the door closed behind him, he heard a distinct sniffle sound from a bean bag chair. He hesitated before he called out.

"Carly?"

The person in the chair stiffened and turned around very slowly. Her wild blonde hair was stuck to her cheeks where clear tears had trailed down them. Her enchanting blue, blue eyes were rimmed with red, and Freddie started to panic. Still, Sam stared at him innocently as if he'd been here all along, as if he'd seen her cry before—which he most certainly hadn't.

"Freddie?" She wondered. Her voice sounded weak and far away.

"Sam," He whispered back.

**A/N: More to come, of course! Just pausing it here. I'll probably update later today. Review puhleaseee, I know it's not the greatest, but I'm working on it. Shlove you guys (:**


	2. iHear Sam Out

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! You guys are so sweet :)**

**By the way, this is titled as "AH REAL MONSTERS" in my computer documents. Ohhh, me.**

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****Chapter Two**

There was a long and awkward pause. Freddie would personally like to believe that it was the longest and awkwardest pause of his lifetime, but that might have been because time had slowed down. He was waiting with bated breath for the violent, almost demonic, scream, the rush of impact as Sam tackled him, and the bruising of multiple parts of his body.

"Go away, Freddifer," Sam murmured breathlessly, vainly swiping at the tears streaming down her face as she turned again so her back was facing him.

He hadn't been expecting this at all. He blinked multiple times in confusion, and let out the air that he had unconsciously been holding in.

"Um…" He stammered stupidly. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"Sorry. Dumb question."

Suddenly, the blonde turned around and looked him in the eye.

"Freddie, can I talk to you?" She asked sweetly, so very uncharacteristic of Sam.

Freddie had _no _idea what to make of any of this. A big portion of him wanted to scream, 'Who are you and what have you done with Sam Puckett?' and run right back out the door. But the greater part of him wanted to know what was wrong—and something was so obviously wrong. Sam Puckett didn't just cry over anything. Plus, she looked so weak, so innocent, and so vulnerable. It nearly broke his little heart that she wasn't beating him up right now. _Nearly_.

"Of course you can," He said, striding to the weeping blonde quickly and taking the dutiful seat of a friend next to her—the seat Carly probably would've taken, had she been home. Sam swallowed hard and kept her eyes on her hands that were wringing constantly in her lap.

"Has Carly ever told you about my dad?"

Well, of course Carly had. She hadn't explained in detail, of course. She basically said that he hadn't really wanted children, and had run from her mother two weeks before Melanie and Sam were born.

"Vaguely, yes," Freddie answered, positioning himself so that their knees were touching. Normally, Sam would've had a cow and punched him for his skin coming in contact with hers, but she didn't react in the slightest. Instead, she kept her eyes on her hands.

"That he ran away from mom?"

"Yes."

"Okay. So… I never really knew my dad, you know? He never visited—but could you really expect him to since he was a deadbeat and all? Anyways, for most of my life, it was me, Mom, and Melanie. And then Melanie went off to that fancy-schmancy boarding school that my mom boasts about so frequently, and Mom started dating again. And she like…_really _dates. She's down to one guy every five days, it's crazy. So I was sort of on my own. I never really minded though—I had _iCarly_, and I had Carly, and I even had you, nub. But—and if you tell Carly this, I'll kill you—I got in contact with my dad." Sam paused here, and had it been anybody but her, he would've assumed it was for dramatic effect. She plowed on, speaking quickly now.

"It was really stupid, actually, that I looked him up. Originally I'd wanted to find him and give him a piece of my mind. But when I did find him…and I told him who I was…he became almost _fatherly_. He gave me a hug and said it was so nice to meet me… I should've seen it coming, I really should've. But I didn't. I was naïve and oblivious. I started to hang out with him, ya know? Make up for all the lost time… and last week… last week he said he was in a bit of a bind."

Freddie didn't like where this was going. Still, he nodded at all the appropriate times, and even threw an 'mhm' or two in there. Because, let's face it, this was Sam Puckett they were talking about here—she didn't just open up to anybody.

"He said he couldn't pay the bills for his apartment because he was kind of short. He would have to move. And Fredlumps, please don't judge me, I wanted him to stay in town. I didn't want him to move. I _liked _having a relationship with my dad. So I granted him the five hundred dollars he needed. Stole it from my mom, of course, and swore to replace it as soon as I could. I went by his place three days ago—we were supposed to get lunch—but the landlord told me he'd moved. No, he didn't move because he couldn't make the payment—he was headed to Las Vegas with the money he 'needed to pay rent'. I should've known—the man's a Puckett."

"God, Sam, I'm so sorry," Freddie whispered. "Is there anything—?"

"You don't even know the worst of it yet, dork."


	3. iWant to be There For You

**A/N: Tra lalalalala :) as always, thanks for the reviews. It's definitely going to get harder to write this, considering I start school on Tuesday, but I'll do my very best :)**

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****Chapter Three**

Freddie instantly shut his mouth in fear of Sam calling it quits right there and vacating the premises. However, the blonde that so often tormented him sighed softly as a single tear crept down her pink cheeks.

"My mom found out I took the money," She whispered almost silently. "And then she found out why." Freddie swallowed hard, keeping his eyes trained on Sam, willing her to continue.

"She got so angry," Sam recalled. "'That money was for Melanie!' she kept saying. 'Not you or your father!' I don't want to go any farther than that, let's just say we got into quite the fight, and then she broke up with Don. I was brooding in my room when she came in and kept _screaming _at me. And I screamed back. And then she said something like, 'I don't want a thief in my household!' and then I said, 'Well, should I leave?' And she was quiet for a while. So I stood up off my bed and started packing my things—I knew what that look meant."

"She kicked you out?" Freddie whispered, almost choking on the news. Sam looked into his eyes for the first time since the conversation began. His brown pierced into the blue that were brimming with unshed tears.

"I don't think it's permanent—I just…I just—" But the tears overwhelmed her, and before Freddie was quite sure of what he was thinking, he had his arms around her, cradling her to his chest.

He only panicked for a second—the second where Sam was quiet. But almost right after, she had her arms around his waist, and was sobbing into his shoulder. Because, let's face it, it wasn't like they hadn't hugged before. And they most certainly had done _worse_.

"You could live with me," He suggested. Okay, that was pushing it. Sam pulled away from the hug and gave him a curious look.

"Did I hear you correctly?" She murmured. "Did you just say that I could live with you and your crazy mother?"

"Right…crazy…maybe you can't."

"That's what I thought. And anyways, I kind of walked in this apartment with all my bags. Spencer didn't question it—he just asked if I wanted spaghetti tacos or pizza for dinner." Well, of course Sam would be living with Carly—that made the most sense.

"So we're gonna be—"

"Neighbors," Sam finished for him. "Yeah. Don't worry; I won't slip any ranch in your shampoo bottle. For a while, anyways." Freddie chuckled aimlessly for a second, before composing himself and getting back to the issue at hand.

"What are you going to tell her?" He asked, a slight frown flickering on his lips. Sam shrugged, wiping away the last of her tears.

"Maybe that I couldn't stand my mom's new boyfriend or something. I haven't quite worked that part out yet. All I know is that you're the only person other than me and mom who knows the real story now, and I want to keep it that way."

"Sam, are we friends?" Freddie blurted.

He wasn't really sure what possessed him to ask that peculiar question, but he knew he'd wanted to know the answer for a while now. He sort of thought they were…but he obviously could be wrong. Sam cocked her head to one side, appraising him lightly.

"What do you mean?" She questioned.

"Well, I'm the only person who knows, like you just said. I could…be there for you. Like a…friend."

"I kind of thought you were just there for me."

"I was."

"So doesn't that technically make us friends?"

"Does it?"

"Do you want it to?"

"Do you?"

"Yes."

And that one word was firm—Sam Puckett wanted Freddie Benson as her friend, and so friends they were. That was just the way it worked with Sam. You didn't question what she wanted—you just obeyed.

"Okay," Freddie said, getting uncertainly to his feet. "You cool?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Alright. Then I should probably get home."

"Don't you want to wait for Carly?"

"Uh…nah, I have a report I need to finish." He stretched a bit, reaching his hands towards the ceiling and bending his back. Sam watched him, curling her arms around herself. He gave her a parting glance and a nod before heading towards the door. Just as he was about to close it, Sam spoke up.

"Hey Freddie," She said, getting to her feet too. Freddie looked over at her, blinking as a response. And the next thing she said was something Freddie never expected Sam Puckett to ever say in her entire life:

Thank you.

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**Aww, would you look at that. Sam Puckett and Freddie Benson are _friends_**. **Review, chick-a-dees! I'll have the next part up later today. Love yas!**


	4. iSpot the Change

**There's some Cibby interaction in this chapter. Enjooooy, love doves.**

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****Chapter Four**

Carly Shay stood at her locker, appraising the blonde next to her.

"And that's when I said, 'I don't want any pickles!' and pushed him down the stairs," Sam finished, taking a vicious bite out of her Hot Pocket.

"Enthralling, Sam," Carly said, shaking her head a bit.

"Carls, I'll be right back, I gotta ask Freddie something." Carly froze for what seemed like the thousandth time this week. Sam was calling Freddie by his real name—that was strange.

"Okay," She murmured, but Sam was already out of the picture. Letting out an irritated puff of air, Carly shoved a binder into her locker and removed her textbook.

"Something bothering you, Carly?" Gibby asked as he wandered over to her. Carly turned to look at him only to find his face covered by the shirt he was currently taking off. Once he could see her—his stomach bouncing in all its glory—Carly started in on her rant.

"Have you noticed anything different about Sam and Freddie recently?" She demanded. Gibby shrugged, stuffing his shirt into his backpack.

"I thought they always dressed like that," He countered.

"No, not the way they look; how they're acting."

"I'm not following you."

"They're not fighting anymore."

"Of course they are, they're Sam and Freddie."

"No, Gibby, they're not! Sam's staying at my place for a while, and Freddie's over all the time—she hasn't hit him once in a week."

"What?" Gibby practically shouted, his face contorting. "She's still hitting me!"

"I know she is! And Freddie used to be her main target."

"Used to?" Gibby sounded worried now. He wrung his hands together, gazing over at Sam who was walking down the hall with Freddie. _So much for being right back, _Carly thought bitterly. "Does that mean…does that mean I'm the main target now?"

"Probably."

"But that's Freddie's job!"

"GIBBY! WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME? THEY'RE NOT FIGHTING ANYMORE!" An eerie silence drifted over the pair and they both gave simultaneous shudders.

"That's messed up, man," Gibby whispered.

"I know," Carly agreed, landing a hand on Gibby's arm. "And the other day…I was walking to my apartment…and I found them in the hallway _talking_."

"Just—just talking?"

"Just talking Gibby; no screaming, no fighting, no blonde-headed-demon or nerd comments, just _talking_!"

"This is crazy. Do you think they're…together?"

They stood very still for a moment, gazing into one another's eyes. A smile flickered on Gibby's face, and Carly started to giggle. Pretty soon, they were both laughing hard, gripping their stomachs in pain.

"Oh, Gibby," Carly stammered through her laughter, gasping for breath. "That's a good one."

"Thanks, I try," Gibby mused, wiping a tear from his eye. They both fought for composure, struggling to stand up. Carly straightened her clothes and shifted her heavy books to her left arm,

"Well Gibby, I'm going to class. Why don't you…put your shirt back on?"

Gibby doubled over again, clutching his chest. Once he caught his breath, he swung his backpack into his hand and walked away, still giving a laugh here or there, and throwing over his shoulder, "That's a good one, Carly."

Carly shook her head and walked towards her class, feeling something very important was missing. She could put her finger on it almost immediately—a brunette boy about yay high on her right side and a short blonde on the other who were both intent on getting in as many insults as possible before the late bell. But apparently, this wasn't a possibility anymore, as both had disappeared and either side of Carly was lonely.


	5. iNotice Freddie's Different

**As always, thanks for the reviews! You guys are so sweet :) **

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****Chapter Five**

Sam tripped lightly down the stairs, jumped the last six, and headed for Carly's door. Once in the hallway, she took two giant steps to Freddie's house and rapped her knuckles on the door repeatedly.

"Freddie," She shouted. "Hellooooo, Freddie! Freeeeeeddie," She called over and over again, keeping the steady rhythm with her clenched hand. He finally yanked the door open—it sure _took _him long enough—and poked his head out.

"Hel—oh, hey Sam. I should've known," He said, his tone changing noticeably from annoyance to happily surprised when he spotted her. He stepped back from the door to allow her entrance. She didn't mess around—the fridge was her main target. She could faintly hear Freddie's footfalls as he followed her, but she barely paid attention to that. After unsuccessfully searching the fridge, she wrenched open the cabinets.

"Score," She murmured, snagging the Slim Jim and ripping the top. She paused for a second, and whirled around.

"Freddie, why are you watching me?" She demanded, but pretty much lost it near the end.

"To make sure you don't touch my grape popsicles," He said simply.

But Sam had almost completely forgotten about food—and holy chiz, that was not an easy thing for her to do. She couldn't stop gawking.

"Benson," She murmured. "Shouldn't you…put on a shirt?"

"Wha—oh, crap! Sorry, I forgot…"

"Don't apologize." The words were out before she could stop them, and Freddie threw a glance at her over his shoulder as he rushed for his room, slyly raising his eyebrows. She couldn't help it—the boy had been hiding those abs behind his dorky-techy cameras. Shaking her head a bit, Sam went to follow him, taking a bite of her stick of meat.

"So why weren't you wearing a shirt in the first place?" She wondered, pausing in his door, leaning against the side casually.

"I was cleaning the bathtub," He said embarrassingly, digging through his drawers. Admittedly, she didn't want him to put a shirt back on. But that was just her teenage girl hormones kicking in. Or something like that. She couldn't quite think straightly.

"And you didn't have the _decency _to put one on before you answered the door?"

"I just thought they were girl scouts or something."

"You're lucky they weren't girl scouts. They may have mistaken you for Taylor Lautner." Freddie froze, a crinkled t-shirt wadded in his hand and shot Sam a suggestive look.

"Is that a compliment?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh," He chuckled, pulling the blue fabric over his head. Sam took the last rip out of her meat while Freddie watched her, a quizzical look on his face.

"So what brings you to my humble household?" He questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. Sam shrugged.

"Hunger and boredom."

"Plenty of food and things to do at Carly's."

"Not when she's napping."

"Sam, you're at Carly's more than she is."

"Okay! Jeez, stop interrogating me. What are you, a cop?" She spun on her heel and moved back into kitchen area, pulling open the freezer and grabbing one of Freddie's grape pops.

"Hey, no, Sam, those are—"

But she already had the wrapper off and was currently in the process of licking the entire thing. Freddie gave a sigh, shaking his head.

"Some things never change, even if we are friends," He murmured. "But seriously, why are you here?"

"A little harsh, Fredwei—Freddie," She spat, catching herself near the end. Laying off the 'teasing and tormenting' thing had been harder than she'd realized. Freddie rolled his eyes and gave her that look—the look that meant she was supposed to keep talking. She sighed, biting off the top of her frozen desert.

"I thought we could go to the Groovy Smoothie or something," She said a bit sheepishly, looking at her feet.

"You got money?" He asked.

"Do you think I do?"

"Of course not. I'll get my wallet." He turned to go back into his room and Sam trailed after him, her tongue swiping at the melting drops of partly-frozen deliciousness.

"Hey, you might want to change your shirt too, that one's kind of wrinkly." Freddie threw back his head and laughed, stuffing his wallet into his pocket. He turned to Sam on his way to the apartment door and pinched her cheek lightly.

"There are more direct ways to say you think I have a hot body," He pointed out.

Well, she couldn't argue with that logic.

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**This chapter was inspired by a DanWarp video I watched today… maybe you've seen it… Nathan shows off his arms a bit at the end. Pretty impressive. Just saying. Review you Seddie warriors :)**


	6. iNeed to Investigate

**Oh boy… It's been quite a while, huh guys? I went from posting like twice a day to not once in a week. I was having a little difficulty thinking of an idea for this chapter, and school's been pretty hectic. But you don't wanna hear about me! Onto the story!**

**Oh, and for the person who asked—Sam was **_**not **_**asking Freddie on a date. It was a friend thing :) but that, of course, could change. **

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****Chapter Six**

"If that lady buys, she's crazy," Gibby said intelligently, twisting a purple straw in between his fingers. Carly had her elbows propped on the table with her face resting lightly in her palms.

"Only somebody as crazy as T-Bo would think selling food off of a stick would be a good idea," She muttered. It had been a slow day at the Groovy Smoothie. The most exciting thing that had happened was when Gibby came into work with no shirt, and he and T-Bo got into a screaming match. Carly had meant to quit this job after her room had recovered, but once Gibby had taken a position too, it became more entertaining. Plus, having the money wasn't such a _bad _thing. In fact, the only problem with this job was the hideously vibrant orange shirts.

"I didn't sell one pear," T-Bo complained, bringing his stick of fruit onto the table with a bang. Carly smirked at Gibby who was rolling his eyes.

"Did you really expect to?" He asked.

"No," T-Bo spat vehemently. "I'm going to wash my hands." Carly laughed as T-Bo walked dejectedly and over dramatically to the bathrooms. There truly was no boss quite like him…

When the door's bell clanged, she glanced over out of habit, and nearly had a heart attack.

"Oh my god," Gibby whispered. "Oh my god, oh my god, look who just came in the door!"

"I saw, Gibby! What is Sam doing here? She's supposed to be home! I told her I was going to Wendy's house, and she specifically said 'I'm going to be staying at your house.'"

"Why did you tell her you were going to Wendy's house?" Gibby questioned, shooting Carly a confused look.

"Gibby!" She whisper-shouted. "That's not the point! The point is Sam and Freddie just walked in the door. I'm going to hide!"

And with that, she ducked under the counter.

"What am I supposed to do?" Gibby shouted to her, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"Well, I dunno Gibby, take their orders? That is your _job_, isn't it?"

"Oh. Right, right."

"Gibby? Who are you talking to?" Freddie's voice sounded from above her, and Carly automatically smacked a hand to her mouth. He really was here—with Sam.

"I'm not talking to anybody," Gibby said nervously.

"Oh…Okay. Two strawberry splats, please?"

"Two? Why are you getting two? How could anybody possibly drink two smoothies in one sitting?"

Carly had the strongest urge to smack Gibby senseless.

"I'm not drinking both of them, Gibby. One for me, and one for Sam. She's getting us a table, and I'm getting the smoothies."

"Where's Carly?" Gibby interjected. "Aren't you guys The Three Musketeers?"

"Um, not really? Sam said Carly was napping."

Carly bristled. Why would Sam lie about where Carly was? Then again, Carly had lied about where she'd been going… the intricate web of lies teenage girls tell is carefully woven, of course.

"One time," Gibby blurted in only a way Gibby could. "I saw this spider. And I was like, 'Ahh, spider!' and then the spider was like, 'Ahh, Gibby!'"

Carly could imagine the puzzled look on Freddie's face. Heck, she could imagine the puzzled look on _her _face. Oh, Gibby. He was so bad under pressure.

"That's…great. Look, can I just get my smoothies?"

"Right. Smoothies. Coming right up." Gibby tripped clumsily over to the blender, and shot Carly a quick glance.

"Act natural," She mouthed, waving her hands around. Gibby gave a less than discreet nod as he capped the smoothies and turned back to Freddie.

"Thanks man," Freddie said a little hastily. Who could blame him? Carly would want to get away from Gibby too if she didn't know why he was acting so strange.

"Freddie, can I ask you something?" Gibby wondered, sounding amazingly calm and, well, _natural_, as he placed his hands on the counter.

"Er…sure, Gibby, go for it."

"Are you and Sam…together? Like…together, together?"

Without meaning to, Carly landed a hand on Gibby's ankle and squeezed. She'd secretly wanted to hear the answer to this—and she wasn't appreciating his hesitation.

"Uh," Freddie muttered, and Carly pictured him running his hand along the back of his neck. "I don't want to say something like _that _but who knows? Things could…change."

"Oh."

"This is strictly between you and me, got it? If Sam…if Sam knew I said that…"

"Don't worry about it."

"You can't even tell Carly."

"Okay, I won't."

"Good. See you around, Gibby." Carly could hear the footsteps as he padded to the table—the table he was sharing with Sam. The table he was sharing with Sam that didn't mean something but definitely _could _mean something…

"Oh my god," Carly squeaked, keeping her knees tight to her chest.

"I know," Gibby whispered, crossing his arms and keeping a firm eye on the table—the table that meant _everything _in Carly's life could change. "If you could only see the way she's smiling at him now, Carly. You wouldn't believe it was Sam."

"Gibby?"

"Yeah?"

"We have to investigate."

"I was thinking the exact same thing."

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**Well, well. Puckett and Benson caught red handed(; **

**By the way, any hard-core Schneider fans catch The Amanda Show reference?**

**Review, please!**

**And... Amanda, please! Oh, I'm such a nerd :)  
**


	7. iHave a Secret

**So I just finished my homework—four hours of it—and I have a little time before bed. Yayayayayayayay, Seddie!**

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****Chapter Seven**

_Life goes on_

And so it did, just as promised. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. And still, the change between Sam Puckett and Freddie Benson was almost tangible—you could taste it.

_Almost like…almost like they were friends_

But of course, this was impossible. Sam and Freddie? Get real! They hate each other. They've always hated each other—they always will.

_So why is she following him?_

It must've been a dare, the kids at school wavered, a dare for that _iCarly _show they do.

_So why had he changed his life to revolve around her?_

But after months on end of their devoted side by side walks through the hallway, the children at their high school began to second guess themselves. 'Maybe this isn't a bet,' they pondered, 'Maybe this is…real'.

_And real it was_

It was rumored for a while they were together—("But that's impossible, we're talking about _Sam_ and _Freddie_!")—but once Freddie began dating a petite brunette named Sheyna last month, those rumors were defeated. They were completely squashed when Sam dated Rob for a week.

_So why did he have his arm around her? Why was she giving him hugs? Why were they laughing together?_

The new relationship between the infamous pair swirled through the minds of the children and even some faculty at school. Why? That was all anybody wanted to know. Why?

_But they had no idea they'd changed _

The switch seemed to have been effortless—as if he always carried her books to class (then again, there were so few of them). As if they always walked home together. As if they always hung out _without _Carly.

Speaking of that Shay girl, when had she become so close to the kid who never wears his shirt? You almost never saw them without each other now-a-days. Plus, they'd been acting so weird…

_Just like somebody else we know_

Carly would walk behind her two best friends, entirely quiet and emotionless, and the pair seemed to not even notice she was there. But through her carefully composed mask, deep down enough, you could see speculation. Almost as if…almost as if she were evaluating the pair of…er, friends?

_But they can't be friends, they're Sam and Freddie!_

And that kid who hates clothing, why was he being so weird? You would turn a corner just to find him lurking there. Sometimes you would open the janitor's closet in a desperate attempt to find your class, and he'd just be _standing _there like some freak, giving you an innocent look.

_What on earth was going on?_

The body of Ridgeway wanted answers, and they wanted them now. What was going down with their favorite webshow cast? Why was _iCarly _now mysteriously lacking the name calling, hair pulling, and wet willies of it's past? One thing was for sure:

_Something fishy was going on with those _iCarly _kids_

_x_

But time did go on, and lives proceeded almost normally.

Carly had straight A's, was president of the drama club, and was first chair in orchestra. She never missed a shift at the Groovy Smoothie with Gibby—where the only thing they would talk about were their recent discoveries of Sam and Freddie—and she never missed an _iCarly _rehearsal.

Gibby was doing his best to be a sleuth, and had no idea he was completely over-doing it. He took detailed notes in a notebook titled 'Top Secret', like only a Gibby could. He wore a hat and sunglasses around school—complete overkill—and followed Sam and Freddie from a healthy distance.

Sam kept Freddie close, and he didn't really mind. He was the only person who understood her to be somebody other than 'that bully' or 'the tough girl' or 'Carly Shay's friend'. He was the only one who could make her laugh when she was on the verge of tears; make her calm down when she was about to punch a hole in the wall. And he would never know—could never know—that she desperately wanted him to dump Sheyna and open his eyes.

Freddie kept Sam close, and she didn't really mind. He liked their talks, their laughs, and the way she seemed to come to him when she needed him. It was nice, you know. Being needed. And on Friday nights—_their special Friday nights_—he almost lost all the control he had. She would show up at his door as planned after Carly and his mother had gone to bed, and they'd watch a movie on the couch. She always fell asleep—always in his arms. And it was in those moments he would tell her—tell her the things he was afraid to tell her when she was conscious.

_Life goes on _

Even with the secrets and the lies, it goes on.

_And I think it always will_.


	8. iThink Things Have Changed

**A bit longer than usual, but I had a lot to get out :)**

**

* * *

****Chapter Eight **

Sam was already used to this awkward feeling at this precise time of day. She stood a mere half foot from Freddie and Sheyna who were going through their typical end-of-school-day mushy goodbyes. If it had been up to her, she would be on the other side of the school, completely ignorant to Sheyna's obnoxious girlfriend-tweeks. However, her locker was in this place, and since she shared it with Freddie—something Miss. Sheyna was not happy about—she had to endure it.

"Your hair looks cuter when you pull it in the front," Sheyna complained for the thousandth time in the month and a half they'd been together. Freddie said nothing, and this surprised Sam—he usually gave a goofy, 'Okay babe' or something along those lines. There was a moment of silence, and then a girly scoff from Sheyna.

"Don't be like that, she's my best friend," Freddie whispered, and Sam stiffened as she realized they were talking about her.

"She doesn't have to _listen _to us."

"You don't have to have this conversation in front of my locker," Sam replied in a cool tone, opposite Sheyna's irksome pitch.

"_Freddie's _locker."

"No, it's not. It's mine. I let him share with me."

"UGH! Freddie!" Sam gave a tremendous roll of her eyes—why Freddie had decided to date _her _was still unsure. Sam had a theory that it had to do with his mother—guys dated girls like their mother, and Sheyna _was_ pretty good at being annoying. Sam continued her usual routine of packing up Freddie's backpack with his books. When she became so obedient, she didn't remember, but she just tried not to question it to much.

"Bye, Sheyna."

"What?"

"Your bus? You're going to miss it if you don't leave."

"Oh. I'll miss you."

"Okay," Freddie replied, and Sam froze in extracting his Geometry Two book from the bottom shelf. Freddie didn't usually say 'okay'. He usually said something more along the lines of…

"Every minute," Sheyna emphasized. Yeah. Usually something like that.

"Okay," Freddie repeated.

Oh boy. Was he really…was he going to end it with Sheyna? But when the little girl stretched on her toes and met Freddie's lips with hers, Sam let out the breath she'd been holding in a defeated sigh and slung Freddie's backpack onto her shoulder. She grabbed her homework—Freddie was making her do that now—and kept it in her left arm. When she spun towards the couple, she was shocked to find Sheyna had disappeared, and Freddie was watching her.

"Want me to carry that?" He asked. That same question he asked everyday. She pushed her books towards him—like she always did—and took his backpack off so he could add it to his person. She stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and gave Freddie a suspicious look.

"You and Sheyna were…quick today," She murmured embarrassingly and Freddie let out a laugh. Usually, the good-bye kiss was long, dramatic, and…long.

"She's been so annoying recently."

"Oh, you just noticed?" Freddie smirked, and his eyes held hers for a second. She wanted to tell him then—she wanted to tell him that she'd received that phone call in sixth period. Her mother was ready for her to come home—expected her to come home. She wouldn't live near him anymore. Their movie nights would be over…she'd lose her easy access to him.

"Bleh," She said instead, and reached forward to push his hair back again. The same thing she did everyday. And Freddie gave her that smile—that too friendly smile, the adoration in his eyes a little too big, just like he did everyday…

But that, of course, just may have been her imagination.

x

Freddie handed Sam her books back outside of their apartments. Well, Carly's apartment. She wouldn't be living there much longer.

"You wanna come over? My mom's still working," He said, and the gleam in his eye was easily recognized.

_Yes, I would love to come over. We can pretend we're studying when really we're watching crazy reality shows and eating popcorn and laughing. It's my favorite part of the day._

"Nah, that's okay, Carly will be home soon and we're gonna watch Girly Cow."

_You filthy liar, Carly is working tonight._

"Oh," Freddie murmured, and his face fell. Sam immediately wanted to take it all back and make him smile again. But she couldn't—not if she wanted this to be a clean break. She couldn't keep spending all this time with Freddie in hopes things would change—she was fooling herself. It was good she was going home. She wouldn't have to be at Carly's anymore than was absolutely necessary.

"Bye, then," He said, and he opened his arms for her. She gave an internal sigh and took his embrace. He squeezed her just a little too tight, and held her a little too long.

_No he didn't, that's just your imagination again._

"Sam," He whispered, and pulled his face away so he could look at her. Their eyes locked, and Sam felt her stomach leap to her throat.

_Oh my god, kiss me._

And she knew she wanted him too—and she also knew he wouldn't do it. Still, he kept his arms around her hips, keeping his eyes intent on the blue in hers. It would've been an awkward moment for anybody else to walk in on, but to them it was strangely intimate. Freddie chomped on his bottom lip.

"Text me if you want to hang out later."

She immediately let go of him, drawing her arms behind her back and stepping away.

"Okay," She whispered. He stared a second longer, gave a parting nod and opened the door to his apartment. She stood still for another moment, trying to catch her breath, and then opened Carly's door. Spencer wasn't home, so she had the house to herself.

_A clean break._

She moved immediately for the bedroom she and Carly were sharing, and her heart almost broke when she saw their laundry littered on the floor, intertwined as if they belonged to one person. She dragged her suitcases from the shadows of the closet, and started to work.

x

Freddie was banging on the Shay's door.

"SAM!" He hollered. The note she'd left him was burning a hole in his back pocket. Why was he screaming her name, then? He knew she wasn't there. Finally, the door was pulled open, but Carly stood on the other side, clad in a bathrobe.

"Freddie?" She wondered, sounding confused. "It's eleven o'clock on a Wednesday, why are you banging on my door?" He pushed past her and searched the living room wildly.

"Where's Sam?" He practically screamed. Carly gave him a look that symbolized she believed he was crazy.

"She…left."

"What do you mean she _left_?"

"Her mom's back. She went home, Freddie."

"She can't do that to me."

"Uhm. Do what, Freddie? It's not like she moved out of state—we'll still see her at school."

"She didn't say goodbye! She didn't say anything! I walked her home, I carried her books, and I hugged her. And then at ten, my mom comes through the door handing me a note. A note that had been _taped to my freaking door_."

"Calm down, Freddie—"

"After everything…everything I've done for her… All the time we _spent _together, I get a note."

"We got a note too, and we were housing her."

There was silence. Freddie gave Carly a long look.

"It's Sam, Freddie," Carly said quietly. "She doesn't do goodbyes. She avoids mushy conversation at all costs. I mean, have you ever even seen her cry?"

Freddie swallowed hard and glanced at the floor. His rage hadn't completely disappeared—and it wasn't even like this was anything to be upset over. Carly was right—they would still see her. But…her note…things were different now.

"Never mind, I shouldn't involve you in this," He stammered, and made his way for the door.

"Involve me in what? How important could that note have been?"

He responded with the slamming of the door.


	9. iShay

**Chapter Nine**

_Dear Spence and Carls,_

_Well, today's the big day. Mom came back from Spain, so I can go home._

_ Yay. _

_Spencer, I just wanted to say thanks for making me spaghetti tacos and stuff. I had a really good time staying here these last two months, but I won't make be around much anymore because haven't you had enough of me? _

_Carls, thanks for sharing your room and stuff. It was really cool being roommates. So thanks for that. _

_Uhm, I wish you'd been around to formally say goodbye to, but it's probably better off this way. I think I'll be spending more time at home. So I'll see you at school, Carls, and Spence, I'll see you for iCarly rehearsals._

_You'd probably expect a normal mom to give you guys money for housing their kid, but this is my mom we're talking about. I wouldn't count on it._

_Thanks again. _

_You guys are the best._

_-Sam_

_

* * *

_**Crazy short, I know. **

**I'm working on Freddie's letter the minute after I post this, and it'll be on tomorrow morning :) **

**It's obviously going to be a little more sentimental then this one. Thanks for the reviews!  
**


	10. iBenson

**Chapter Ten**

_Freddie,_

_Oh man. I don't even know where to start…_

_First of all, thanks for being there for me. I honestly wouldn't have made it through all of this with my sanity if you hadn't walked into the iCarly studio that afternoon. And it's been…really cool being friends._

_Okay, I'm gonna cut the chiz and tell you what's up._

_Mom called. She wants me home. So, I'm homeward bound, just like that cheesy movie we watched two weeks ago about the dogs and the annoying cat._

_Freddie, I have to be honest. I'm going to miss those Friday nights. _

_I'm going to miss everything about living here at the Shay's, really. I'm going to miss being at your house everyday after school. _

_But I have a question._

_How did we get to this point? _

_How did we go from name-calling and slapping each other, to warping our lives to comfort each other? Honestly, if everybody had a little bubble that outlined their figures, mine would be expanded to fit you in, too. That sounds stupid. But its how I feel. _

_Why can I say your name, tap your shoulder, give a sigh with the right pitch, and you'll come running? Why do I pack up your bag everyday after school? Why do you pay for my smoothies? Why do I ask you out for smoothies?_

_I've been asking myself these questions, and it was scary when I couldn't find the answers. I mean, we're friends, sure—best friends even. You know things about me that nobody else does._

_And I can't say that that's not scary. _

_I let you in, Freddie. I don't do that. I shouldn't do that._

_Like for instance, WHY am I writing this insanely sappy letter? _

_See, its things like that you have control over. And I don't know why. It's like…you're the most important person in my life. And maybe you are._

_But Freddie, I can't…do this anymore. I can't be friends with you. Not like this. Honestly, are we even friends? Because…I feel like there's…something more. And maybe there is. Maybe there's not._

_Point is I'm telling you all of this so that you know absolutely everything there is to know about me, and then you run as far away as you possibly can. _

_I got caught up in having you. I took the wrong signals. Like, when you put your arm around me? I think of that as a lot different than you do. _

_Ugh. This is so difficult. _

_When did things get so difficult? _

_I think it was better when we were…barely friends, more enemies, ya know? Because then I didn't have to open my heart and spill out all this touchy stuff. It's not easy for me to say this. It's really not. I'd much rather fill your locker with dead cockroaches. _

_You were there for me, Freddie._

_I can't let you be there for me anymore. _

_I was using you as a crutch, and expecting too much out of you. _

_Here's a crazy thought: that moment in the hallway we had about an hour ago? I really thought you were going to kiss me again. I…wanted you to kiss me again. _

_That's why I can't go on like this. You don't wanna kiss me, Freddie. You don't feel the same way I do. And…I can't say it doesn't hurt. But I shouldn't tell you that, because you'll want to fix the hurt. And I can't let you. _

_Freddie. I need to forget about these last two months._

_We need to forget about these last two months. _

_But before we do, I have to tell you something. I have to tell you something I would never tell you before, but now that I don't have to look in your eyes, I think I can do it._

_I love you. _

_There, it's out._

_But don't worry._

_I'm already getting over it._

_-Sam_


	11. iDon't Belong to Carly

**Holy cow! Thanks for SO many reviews, guys! I went on Friday night and I had like twelve new ones :) and they kept going! It made me really happy, thanks :) **

**So I based this chapter on the new episode, **_**iSam's Mom**_** that comes out soon! Who's pumped? **

**

* * *

****Chapter Eleven**

_You, sir, are insane, _Freddie's conscious practically screamed at him.

_Shut up, _he told it.

He already knew he was insane—you could see that in the looks of the drivers that sped past him, happily safe and warm in their cars. Still, he tread on, keeping his head held high as he crashed through the Seattle thunderstorm.

He needed to talk to Sam.

After dramatically fleeing Carly's place, he had gone home and called her—count it—seventeen times. He'd then preceded to text her five times to no avail.

This was the only way.

He'd stormed out of his apartment about ten minutes ago—with his mother screaming and threatening the whole time. He knew he'd have a big price to pay when he got back, but in this moment, about two things were really important to him.

One: the fact that he couldn't feel his toes.

Two: Sam.

He'd only been to her house once—to pick up Melanie (or Sam) for their date, and from what he'd learned, the only other reason to visit the Puckett household is if you had a death wish.

But Sam had said she loved him. Things were different now.

He turned on her street, his body convulsing in shivers, and had half a mind to turn back around. He stood in front of her house, the wrought iron gate daring him to open it, and felt a tiny tremor of fear. What if Sam had been joking? What if this all was some cruel joke? What if he was getting his hopes up just to be terribly let down? He glanced over again at the brightly-lit street he'd come from and gave a heavy sigh.

_You never know until you try._

He pushed on the silver gate with a little too much force and stomped to the door. There were lights on, and the TV was blaring—that was a good thing. He took several deep breaths, shook his numb hands, and pounded on the door. He could hear the faint creak of an armchair as somebody vacated it. His heart thudded dangerously in his chest, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down with the continued gulps. Finally, Sam's mom pulled open the door. She looked the same as she always did—tall, blonde hair cropped short, menacing expression…

"Alvin, I told you twenty minutes ago to move it or—"

"Please, I'm not Alvin. I need to—" Freddie interrupted, only to be shut down again by the nettled look she was shooting his way.

"Oh… a teenager… Sorry kid, Melanie comes home next weekend." She went to shut the door, but Freddie bravely stuck his foot in the jab.

"No, I'm here to talk to Sam."

There was a moment's hesitation before she whipped around again, getting close to his face, and snarling a bit.

"So are you the reason she came home and immediately locked herself in her room?" She demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Can I please just—?

"She hasn't left her room for four hours. It's depressing. She didn't even come out to watch me break up with Alvin. She _always _watches."

Freddie was ready to spin around on his heel and disappear when she leaned closer to him, cocking an eyebrow.

"You're that Benson kid, aren't you?"

_Oh, crap._

"Uhm, yeah, that's me."

"Don't you belong to Carly?"

Freddie gave an exasperated sigh. Honestly, how much longer could everybody rub his stupid behavior in his face? He had been twelve, for crying out loud. He hadn't even hit puberty. _Of course _he'd been in love with the girl next door. He was far from over that.

"No," He said firmly, forcing himself to look her in the eye. She raised her eyebrows in a look that suggested she was thoroughly amused with the situation.

"So what brings you to my doorstep at midnight in the pouring rain? Samantha, is it? You got the hots for her now or something?" Freddie didn't answer—he obviously didn't need to. Sam's mother took a step onto the porch, getting a bit too close for comfort.

"You listen to me, and you listen to me closely, got it? Sam's never been one to keep guys coming and going. She's always been 'one of the guys'. Until you come along. Oh yes, I've heard all about you, Freddie. That magical night on the _fire escape_, she and Melanie wouldn't shut up about it for days. And then of course she was _devastated _when you asked Melanie on a date. But so obviously enthralled when you wouldn't kiss her—because of course, you kissed _Sam_, didn't you?"

Freddie blinked furiously, trying to understand what was going on. Sam's mother rolled her eyes, inching the door closed a bit.

"Oh, are you surprised? Shocked to find out that Sam isn't exactly the 'tough girl' that she acts like? Don't be. Girls are girls. First kisses, first crushes, first boyfriends, it's all a big freaking deal. And oh yeah, you were the subject of the two 'firsts', but I'll be pathetic if I even letyou _near_ the third. This is Samantha we're talking about—you _know _you're too good for her. What was your plan? Date her for a week, mess around, and then crush her heart?"

"WHAT?" Freddie shouted, causing a light next door to flick on. "That's not even _remotely _close to the reason I came here! She left me this note, and I need to talk to her!"

"Like I said," She continued, sounding cold and disconnected. "You're going no where near her."

"That's crazy, why would you even say that I'm too good for—"

"Get off my property."

"Please, I just need to talk to—"

"I'll call the cops, kid; I've done it thousands of times. They practically keep one right around the corner."

"FINE," Freddie screamed, and he stomped right back down the steps, anger flooding his system as he fought with himself. He cast one last look over his shoulder just in time to see a slim figure; the golden curls were much too long for that of her mother's, and the piercing flash of blue seem to cut right into him before she slid the door closed with a gentle click.


	12. iMiss You

**Chapter Twelve**

**Thursday**

Freddie Benson would not—could not—be defeated. Even if his mother, Sam's mother, and the laws of physics were against him, he would win.

He stood with his back straight and completely covering the locker he shared with Sam. If she wanted to cut off all ties with him, she'd have to come clear out her stuff sooner or later, because he most certainly was not moving.

Carly Shay turned the corner and stopped cold when she noticed Freddie. He gave her a side glance and nodded once wordlessly.

"What happened last night?" She demanded. That was the thing with Carly—she only beat around the bush when she was trying to be cutesy.

"Nothing," Freddie muttered, trying to avoid her eyes.

"Freddie, you come barging into my house demanding Sam, leave, and then when I go over to visit you five minutes later, your mom tells me you left! Where could you have possibly gone? It was raining all night!"

"Doesn't matter," He said in the same monotone, lifeless voice.

"Doesn't matter? Freddie, I thought we were best friends. All three of us. But obviously something is going on. Can't you just tell me?"

"No."

There was silence. Freddie secretly held his breath as he surveyed his shoes. Carly gave a little huff.

"Fine," She said haughtily. "Don't tell me. I don't care." Her tone obviously suggested she cared, but Freddie didn't call her out on it. Carly soundlessly visited her locker, putting together her books and placing them in her leather bag. When she was finished, she gave him a long look.

"Come on, we'll be late for class," She said, reaching a hand out to motion for him to join her. Her bad mood was seemingly gone—for now.

"Uh, no. I'm gonna hang out here for a while."

"She's always late," Carly said knowingly. Of course she knew. She always knew.

"I know. That's okay."

"First Sam does her homework, now you're not worried about being late for class. Your friendship is rubbing off on you guys." She paused and gave a faint little smile. "We have that test in Mr. Green's class tomorrow. T-Bo gave us the night off. Do you want to come over and study with me and Gibby? Sam might come," She added as an afterthought. Freddie shrugged.

"Maybe."

"Alright. See you later, Freddie." She turned on her boot's heel and padded quietly to her classroom as the late bell rang. Freddie gave a sigh, leaned over, and studied the doorway. How long would he wait for her? Two minutes? No, that was too little. Five minutes? Ten?

_As long as it takes_, he decided. _That's how long I'll wait._

Of course, by the fifteen minute mark, he gave up and moved for his classroom as well. He hated giving up on her. He had promised her that he would never do that.

**Friday**

He stood by their locker again where he'd already checked four times to make sure her things were still in it. Nothing had moved—Sam Puckett hadn't shown up for school the previous day.

Carly came by again. He hadn't bothered to go and study with her—what was the point? She gave him another analyzing look.

"I get off at seven if you want to hang out," She said halfheartedly.

"Maybe," He said again. Carly nodded, shut her locker, and left for class. He waited on her for twenty minutes—he already had detention, so what the hay?—before he gave up on her again.

**Saturday **

"She's just a little late," Freddie assured Carly who was fiddling with the bottom of her shirt.

"She's always late," Carly agreed.

And the pair continued to stare at the door until the time for the _iCarly _rehearsal had completely dwindled, and Freddie's mother declared he must come home—after all, he was grounded. He gave Carly a worried parting glance before disappearing down the stairs, always looking for the blink of blue, or the bounce of a golden curl.

**Sunday**

He stood outside her house with his jacket hood pulled around his face. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and he did his glance around again.

No lights on. No movement. No car in the driveway. A lock on the front gate.

He could've very easily climbed over the fence to go and pound on her door, but he knew she wasn't there. And even if she was, why would she talk to him?

**Monday**

He stood by the locker again. Carly came again. She merely looked at him, her face sad as if viewing a memorial service, before she departed.

"Freddie?" Somebody else whispered. He immediately jumped and shot his eyes to the left, only to be disappointed by Sheyna.

"What happened on Saturday night?" She asked, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Are we…over?"

"I'm sorry, Sheyna," He said. And that really was all he could say—he couldn't find enough energy to actually care. The love of his life had abandoned him, too.

**Tuesday**

Carly went to her locker again. She didn't dare to look at Freddie, and quickly departed for her class. The late bell rang. How long would he stand out here? Probably the whole period. His feet just didn't seem to want to move him anymore.

**Wednesday**

"Carly, wait up," Freddie said quietly as she turned again for the class they shared. She wheeled around, her black hair bouncing on her shoulders as she managed her books under one arm. Freddie gave a final sigh and moved to catch up to her. She didn't smile or laugh like she usually did; she gave him a knowing glance—she always knew.

"I know it hurts," She whispered. "I miss her too."

"Do you think she moved?" Freddie whispered fearfully.

"No," Carly said surely—she always knew.

And as the late bell rang and the doors were coming to a close, one door opened, and Sam Puckett finally went to her locker. She placed the measly amount of books that belonged to her in a back pack, and looked regretfully on Freddie's books. She grabbed his sticky-note pad—what a dork—and wrote her note. She stuck it to his history book—he had history next.

_Thanks for __finally__ giving up._

_-Sam_

_

* * *

_**I know this is super dramatic, but it was way fun to write :) **

**Hope it was fun to read! **

**xoxo  
**


	13. iThink Different is Good

**Ahaha :) your reviews made me laugh. Thanks so much guys! You're the best :) By the way, I just realized that I'm on CHAPTER THIRTEEN. That's kind of insane. I usually do like seven or eight chapters. I guess I really like this one :)**

**

* * *

****Chapter Thirteen **

"And I mean, what kind of nonsense is that, clearing her stuff out and just leaving a note?" Freddie demanded into his receiver. On the other end, Carly was holding the phone away from her ear so his screaming wouldn't cause her permanent hearing loss. She handed a glass of lemonade to Gibby and plopped down on the couch.

"I know it's not fair, Freddie," She agreed. Gibby took a long sip, watching Carly carefully. She gave him an apologetic glance—since Wednesday, Freddie had been calling her to talk, and things usually ended up going right to Sam. But of course, she didn't mind. She was just glad Freddie was talking to her again.

"Did you see her at school today?" He asked.

Carly bit her lip, and Gibby smirked at her reaction.

"You know, Gibby just knocked on my door—can I call you later?"

"Carly, that doesn't answer my question."

"Hey, you know, you could come over and join us."

"Carly—"

"I mean, really, you're right across the hall."

"Carly."

"Okay," She said sheepishly at the harsh tone in his voice. "Yes, yes I saw Sam today." There was an uncharacteristic silence from Freddie. Carly held her breath.

"Oh," He said softly.

"I'm sorry," She whispered. "She just…"

"Did she tell you?"

"About the note? Yeah."

"Oh."

Carly knew that Freddie had wanted to keep that note between him and Sam, but once Sam had told her, she'd told Spencer, Gibby, and T-Bo. It was common knowledge, not a secret.

"She doesn't think you feel the same way," Carly muttered.

"She's wrong."

Carly swallowed hard. This was always uncomfortable to talk about—Sam and Freddie weren't supposed to be in… love. Ugh. It was hard to even think about that word. But of course, Sam was doing her very best to cut that word out of her system, along with the boy who made her think about it.

"I gotta go," Freddie murmured. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

"Okay, Freddie. Bye."

"Bye."

The receiver went dead. Carly took the phone away from her ear and chucked it across the room. It crashed against the side of the TV stand and fell to the floor, the back falling off and sending her battery sliding across the floor. With a dainty huff, Carly pulled her legs under her so she was sitting criss-cross apple sauce.

"That was an odd way of hanging up," Gibby remarked.

"I don't want him to call back," She said frostily. "Freddie's my friends and all, but I can't take this 'sad' stuff anymore. He's been complaining about Sam non-stop since Wednesday. Do you know what today is, Gibby?"

"Today would be Monday, Carly."

"That's right! _Monday_! I'm so tired of it!"

Gibby didn't reply. Instead, he pulled his own phone out of his pocket and threw it across the room too. Carly watched it soar then crash, and she was surprised when she started to laugh.

"What did you do that for?" She managed between giggles. Gibby turned his eyes on her and placed a soft smile on his lips.

"Seemed like the right thing to do."

"It was. I needed to laugh."

"That's what the Gibster is here for." He patted her arm, drew another long sip of lemonade, and gently let it down on the table. Carly watched him for a few seconds before her mouth turned up in a grin.

"How's that hot girlfriend of yours?" She asked playfully, shrugging her shoulders and wiggling her eyebrows.

"Tasha?"

"That's the one!"

"We broke up."

"Oh god, Gibby, I had no idea. When?"

"Eh," Gibby said nonchalantly. "The day we saw Sam and Freddie in the groovy smoothie together?"

"Are you okay?" She wondered.

"Um…why wouldn't I be?" He answered, examining his fingernails.

"Well, I'm sure you weren't expecting it! Did she say why?"

"Carly, I broke up with her."

There was silence as Carly absorbed this. After a second, she landed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," She whispered.

"No, Carly, I'm serious."

"That's ridiculous, why would _you _break up with _her_?"

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! You're just…different, Gibby."

"Is different…bad?" He asked. Carly was taken aback by this—usually, Gibby didn't care about how he acted or what people thought of him. Carly backtracked a little.

"Of course it's not. Different is an absolutely great thing, Gibby. If we were all the same, life would get really boring. That's why I like you, Gib." Gibby was quiet for a few moments, rubbing his hands together in his lap.

"Hey, Carly? Can I try something?"

"Try what?"

But barely after the words were out of her mouth, Gibby caught her lips between his.


	14. iNeed You

**I know, I know, Cibby is a little strange :) It was hard for me to wrap my mind around it too. But then again, anything involving Gibby has to be strange. **

**

* * *

****Chapter Fourteen**

**Wednesday**

It took her a day of Carly's incessant nagging. Just a day—she was secretly disappointed in herself for caving so quickly. Nevertheless, after walking to school with Carly and Gibby—she didn't ask questions about that; she didn't want to know—she was standing by his locker. Well, technically, her locker that she let him have. The school system must be so confused with them. Shoot, everybody must've been so confused with them.

He stood watching her as she cowered into the lockers. A group of kids—probably from one of his nerdy clubs—was trying to snag his attention, but he wouldn't break focus. And Sam stared back as bravely as she could.

She had to admit it, the kid was a mess.

His clothes were frumpy and his hair looked like it hadn't been combed in days. The bags under his eyes were dark purple, and he had the slightest hint of stubble on his chin. She didn't want to believe it was her fault—but what else could be affecting him so badly? Carly said he was distraught…but she hadn't said he was _this _distraught.

The bell rang, but neither of them made any shift in their positions. The dorky teenagers finally scrambled away, and before either of them had spoken, the hallway had cleared out almost completely. As the late bell rang, the last kid ducked into their classroom, and there was complete silence.

"Hi," She said softly. He just stared at her, his face completely emotionless. She swallowed hard, shifting from foot to foot, wishing she had the ability to read his mind.

"Umm," She stalled. "How are you?"

He was quiet. Then,

"What are you doing?" He demanded in a cold, steel voice.

"What do you mean?" She whispered back, putting her arms behind her back and chewing on her bottom lip.

"I mean I thought you were cutting me out of your life."

"It was too hard…"

"Oh, right. So what do you want, Puckett? Money? Friendship? Your locker back? Please tell me, I know you're so used to me giving you things."

"I don't want anything—"

"Oh _sure_ you don't. Sam, everything in your world is about you, and you know it. You don't care about other people's feelings, do you? You couldn't care _less_ about that note you wrote me. Do you remember? The note where you declared your love for me, and then disappeared?"

"I didn't disapp—"

"Let me talk. I mean, you wouldn't for so long. You get to spill all your emotions, and then expect me not to have a say in it. You expected me to read your note and just say, 'Well, that's it then' and step right out of your life. Well, news flash, _it's not that easy_."

"I never expected that. I just wished that's how it could've been."

"Why do you push _everybody _away from you? Why can't anybody get to you? Why is it always a guessing game as to what you're feeling?"

"Because too many people have hurt me."

"Oh, boo freaking hoo, Sam has a sob story! Listen princess, _everybody does_. You think my dad just magically doesn't exist? Yeah. I have little 'daddy' issues too and a psychotic mother on top of it, but you don't see me prancing around pushing people away from me, do you?"

"Freddie! Why are you being so mean to me?"

"BECAUSE IT'S THE ONLY WAY TO GET TO YOU! And because you ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped all over it!"

"Oh, are we getting into cliché lines now?"

"YES. I went to your _house _in the _pouring rain_ and I argued with _your_ mother and you still wouldn't talk to me. You avoided me like the plague. And the moment I turn around, you stab me in the back."

"I just cleared out my stuff."

"You wouldn't even talk to me."

"Well I'm talking to you now!"

"Yeah, two weeks too late." And with that, he turned to walk away. Sam rushed forward, feeling panicked. This wasn't to please Carly now—she knew she couldn't lose him. He was Freddie and she was Sam—he was the only person who she ever really felt completely safe around anymore. She _couldn't _lose him too.

"Freddie, please!" She practically shouted, landing a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry!"

He froze under her hand, and she found herself holding her breath.

"You're…sorry?" He wondered, turning around to look at her.

"I'm so sorry. It wasn't fair—I should've talked to you that night you came looking for me. I just couldn't…I heard everything my mom said, and I knew she was right. At least, I believed she was."

"Well… you're sorry, so that changes everything, doesn't it?" He bit at her sarcastically, and Sam knew she was fighting a lost battle—but she couldn't stop. She wouldn't lose him. All those moments when she'd convinced herself it would be easy, and when the real time came, she just couldn't find the strength.

"Freddie, please—" She whispered, and when the tears welled up in her eyes, she fought vainly to hide them. But she knew she couldn't—he was Freddie, and she was Sam.

"Oh, so now you're going to cry? Hey, guess who else did their fair share of crying? And let me tell you, it was a lot worse than what you are about to do. I just don't think I can forgive you, Sam. I can't be around somebody who could change their mind about anything and everything at any given time."

He turned away again—she was losing him again. She couldn't lose him. She _wouldn't _lose him.

"Carly told me you felt the same way," She whispered almost inaudibly. He paused and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Did she?" He said in a faux tone of innocence.

"Yes. Was she…telling the truth? Do you love me too, Freddie?"

He was silent for a second as he slung his backpack into his hand. He stood contemplating for a few moments with his back to her. Finally, he pulled it onto the opposite shoulder and began to walk again.

"Yes, she was. I love you, Sam. But don't worry," He added, turning at the staircase to face her. "I'm already getting over it."

* * *

**I know, I know. It's been very dramatic as of late, but I find it so much more entertaining to write with drama than with boring, regular stuff. **

**Also, insanely out of character on Freddie's part since he's usually such a nice guy, but I think he needed a little freak out.**

**About one more chapter after this. Maybe two. I haven't decided if I want an epilogue or not.**

**Thanks again for the reviews! They make my day :)  
**


	15. iAm Lifeless

**Okay okay; I can't make this the last chapter. D: **

**Therefore: there will be this chapter, the last one, and perhaps an epilogue. **

**You'll just have to bear with me! **

**Thanks again guys for reading & reviewing :)**

**

* * *

****Chapter Fifteen **

**Wednesday Night**

Marissa Benson felt like an acrobat juggling the four different bags of groceries. She somehow managed to twist the handle of her apartment and struggled inside. She had gotten off of work early tonight, and hollered for Freddie; there was no way he was asleep at eight o' clock. When he didn't show though, she began to panic. She placed the brown paper bags down on the counter and rushed to his room. Before she could even throw the door open, however, she spotted the note and pulled it down with irritated haste.

_Went to the fire escape. Call me if I'm breaking the rules._

Marissa immediately reached for her phone, but once it was in her hand, she paused and re-read the note. He clearly was breaking the rules—aside from school and _iCarly_, he wasn't allowed out of the apartment—but something about this note made her hesitate in dialing his number. Freddie only went to the fire escape when he needed to be left alone because he was very upset about something. Marissa stared again at her phone before silently placing it on the table and walking back to the kitchen to unpack her food.

x

_This orange is so flamboyant._

Carly laughed out loud at Gibby's text. They'd gotten off their shifts at the Groovy Smoothie ten minutes ago, and had been talking ever since.

_I know, it's the worst._ She agreed before stepping out the elevator. It had only been two days, but Carly had to admit it—dating Gibby was a lot of fun. He was genuine, and she liked that about him. She opened the door to her apartment and immediately stopped dead.

Spencer wasn't cooking like she'd expected. In fact, Spencer was no where to be found. The only thing that caught her attention was Sam.

She was sitting up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her, staring at Carly with red and puffy eyes.

"Oh no," Carly whispered. "Did you talk to him?"

Sam nodded once in answer, and broke into a new batch of tears.

"I shouldn't've come," She muttered thickly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "But I needed you."

Without hesitation, Carly swept across the room and wrapped her arms around her best friend as she slipped into hysterics.

**Thursday**

"Freddie Benson?" Mr. Green called. Carly glanced again at Freddie's empty desk. It was the end of the day, and she hadn't seen him once.

"Freddie Benson?"

"Not here," Carly whispered, slipping her cheek into her palm. Mr. Green gave her a contemptuous look.

"Sam wasn't in my last class either," He mused. "Are your friends sick, Ms. Shay?"

"I guess you could say something like that," Carly muttered.

**Friday**

Freddie came back to school, but Carly knew he wasn't completely there. His eyes were swollen, and she didn't even want to think about the massive amounts of tears that must've been shed. She stood watching him at his locker, keeping her face carefully composed.

"I couldn't forgive her," He said, barely attempting to grab his books and spending most of the time staring into the blue paint.

"I know," Carly whispered. "I would've done the same thing if I were in your position."

"I didn't mean what I said," He continued thickly, and Carly could see the slight amount of water that was building in his eyes. "I'm not getting over her."

Carly's lower lips trembled, and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist. His arms automatically wrapped around her too, and she held him right there for a while.

"I know," She said again.

**Saturday **

_iCarly _wasn't planned to be canceled for that evening, but Carly found herself standing alone, staring into the camera, and bidding their viewers a good evening two minutes into the scheduled webcast.

**Sunday**

_I miss you._

Freddie read the text message over and over again. He sat curled in the fire escape, one arm wrapped around his knees, the other holding his phone.

_She misses you, _he thought. _Get over yourself and forgive her._

He opened a reply, and quickly typed in '_I miss you too._'

But he couldn't find the strength to send it.

**Monday **

"Don't run away," The blonde whispered. "I need you. You _know _I need you."

"I need you too," Freddie admitted. "I want you in my life."

He rushed forward and kissed her, keeping his lips locked on hers…

The alarm clock went off, and Freddie's eyes snapped open.

"Good morning," His mother said from the doorway. "How are you feeling?"

He rolled over and shut off his alarm clock before sitting up in bed. She stared at him for a few moments, and he stared back. She gave a little sigh before turning her back on him and leaving the room.

"I just thought things may have changed by now," She murmured.

"I did too," He said, but by then, she was far out of hearing range.

* * *

**Sort of a filler chapter, I know, but I needed to get how they're feeling out there.**

**The next chapter will be the last.**

**I'll probably post it... Monday or Tuesday, judging on homework.  
**


	16. iLove You

**Song credit goes to Florence and the Machine :)**

**

* * *

****Chapter Sixteen**

_You hit me once_

Sam came back to school on Monday and she tried her very best to be her normal, explosive self around Carly and Gibby. It was hard though after a while; all that mushy romantic stuff was getting to her. When the bell rang, she bid them goodbye and turned for the girl's restroom.

_I hit you back_

She splashed cold water on her face, convincing herself that everything was okay and she most definitely wasn't going to lose it—she was Sam Puckett. Sam Puckett didn't lose it. She pulled her backpack onto her back again, and practically burst out of the restroom.

A brunette boy was opposite her, watching her intently with his dark brown eyes. She hesitated where she stood, gazing at his impeccably lazy figure leaning against the lockers.

"Hi," Freddie said.

"Hi," She whispered back.

_You gave a kick_

"Can we talk?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean…really talk? Not you talking, and me screaming at you."

"I'd like that," Sam said, and she crossed the hallway so she could stand in front of him. It really was remarkable how much taller he was than her now. She remembered the days when she used to push _him_ around for being a shrimp.

_I gave a slap_

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry for being such a jerk on Wednesday. I just…didn't know how to react to seeing you again. But I guess my reaction wasn't very polite."

"It's not like I was any better," Sam admitted, and she was really surprised to here the words leave her mouth. "I was immature; I watched you stand at our locker for days and I never once came out to say something to you."

"Why, though? You knew I wanted to talk to you."

_You smashed a plate over my head_

"Because I'm Sam, and you're Freddie," Sam said, and a smile actually formed on her lips. "That's how we function. I run away and you chase me."

"It hasn't always been like that," Freddie muttered embarrassedly, trying to cover up for her statement.

"Just recently," Sam agreed. "And I wanted you to chase me; I didn't want to hand myself over."

"That might be the dumbest thing I've ever heard, Puckett."

"I rehearsed you know, Benson."

_Then I set fire to our bed_

"Scratch that," Freddie said with an easy chuckle. "_That _was the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Oh, like you didn't debate what you were going to say," Sam spat. Freddie gave an easy shrug, readjusting his backpack a bit.

"True," He admitted.

They stood in silence for a moment. Sam watched him carefully as he studied his feet. Once a nub, always a nub.

"Am I…forgiven?" She wondered.

_My black eye casts no shadow_

"I don't know," Freddie said honestly, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. "Why didn't you come and talk to me when I went to your house? I know you saw me."

"I answered this already—I believed what my mom said."

"That I belong to Carly and that I know I'm too good for you?" Sam winced, but nodded ever so slightly. Freddie resumed the picking of the thread and muttered almost silently, "Well, that's ridiculous."

"Maybe for you, but I believed her. I thought…you believed her."

"Not for a second."

_Your red eye sees no pain_

"Oh," was all Sam could say. Freddie gave a nod, and then immediately launched into his next question.

"What I wanted to know was _why _did you want to forget about our friendship? I mean, that was the best two months of my life you know. Because I didn't have to get hit or anything," He added quickly, avoiding the burning sensation in his cheeks. Sam chuckled, smacking his shoulder.

"Benson, I'm always going to hit you."

_Your slaps don't stick_

"Yeah, I guess that's true. But still, why?"

Sam gave a heavy shrug, knocking the heels of her shoes together in a very Dorothy-esque manner.

"Because it went farther than I expected it too. I mean, I know you were dating Sheyna and all, but I won't forget that one time on Friday night…"

"What?" Freddie murmured, suddenly petrified. Sam smirked a bit.

"You thought I was asleep…"

"Oh, no. I don't like where this is going."

_Your kicks don't hit_

"Hey, you're the one who said it, not me! I was almost asleep, because you have a very comfy stomach. Well, anyways, I heard you say something along the lines of, 'I love you,' but I convinced myself that you were on the phone with Sheyna or I was delirious or something along those lines. But I was wrong."

"Obviously," Freddie muttered, desperately trying to rub the embarrassment out of his face.

_So we remain the same_

"Now it's my turn," Sam determined, giving him a skeptical look. Freddie seemed to calculate for a second before giving her the 'okay' nod. Sam nodded back and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You didn't forgive me on Wednesday," She said simply.

"I couldn't," Freddie answered. "Not after all that you'd put me through."

"I guess I can let you go on that one. Next: you didn't text me back yesterday."

_Blood sticks and sweat drips_

Freddie stared at her for a moment before giving the slightest guilty nod.

"Doesn't mean I didn't want to. I made up for it though, didn't I? I'm talking to you now. I didn't have to wait here and get my next week's worth of detentions."

"Or possible suspension," Sam teased before giving a shrug. "I guess you're right. I just have one last question."

"Go for it."

_Break the lock if it don't fit_

"Where does this leave us?"

Silence swept over the two of them like a shadow. Freddie blinked a few times before directing his gaze at her. She stared back, giving him a measured look. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck; she stuck her hands in her pockets while she waited for his answer.

"I don't know," He admitted. "Not in any way ready for a…uhm…"

"Romantic relationship?" Sam supplied, looking just as equally nervous.

"If that's what you meant…"

"It is."

"Okay. Well, I don't think we should push it… right now."

"Right. Couldn't agree more."

_A kick in the teeth is good for some_

"Er," Freddie muttered awkwardly, rolling his shoulders a bit. "I guess I'd better get to class."

"Okay," Sam said. "See ya, Freddo." She reached forward and folded him in her arms. Of course, this task was easier said than done, considering he was twice her size now. Freddie cleared his throat, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"Love ya, Sam."

"Yeah, I know." She chuckled a bit, pulled away from his hug, and turned.

Barely ten feet later, a strong hand landed on her shoulder and spun her around.

_A kiss with a fist is better than none_

Freddie's lips crushed hers, and her eyes popped open quite like they had the first time they kissed. After a few seconds, she moved her lips, too, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around his neck.

She knew he'd been bluffing.

_Woah, a kiss with a fist is better than none.  


* * *

_**Ta-da! **

**Loved it, hated it? Let me know :) **

**Also guys, I'm leaving this one up to you! Review this (you always do, you're so good to me) telling me what you thought of it, AND tell me if you think there should be an epilogue, or if I ended it on the right note. I want to think I ended it well, but then again, you are the readers, and I am not. Also, the epilogue doesn't have to be any kind of continuation :) It could just be a little thing for fun. Maybe I could bring Spencer into it? I love him, and I just realized he wasn't in this except for the beginning.  
**

**AND! If you want an epilogue, PM me (I finally figured out how to work those things) and give any ideas you might have :) I have a little one, just now budding as I write this, but I'm not sure. I don't care what it is! Crazy, stupid, lame, or really good, just let me know! :) **

**Like always, thanks for your devoted reading :) **

**xoxo**

**Leea  
**


	17. Epilogue

**Back by popular demand.  
**

**A month of being with you.**

**

* * *

**Freddie Benson angled the camera so that his girlfriend and her best friend were both in the shot. Carly had the biggest earrings Freddie had ever seen on and Sam was accessorized with a bright baby blue hat.

"Welcome to iCarly!" They both shouted, spinning in circles and grinning at Freddie. Sam held onto her hat as she nearly toppled to the floor, and Carly's peacock feathers were whirling. When they finally stopped, Carly started the webcast.

"We're doing something different on iCarly tonight," She said, smiling happily whilst Sam looked a little freaked out.

"Something weird," She added, giving a Sam-esque roll of her eyes. Carly ignored her and continued with her speech.

"So since you guys found out that I'm dating Gibby—"

"—and I'm dating Fredlumps—"

"You've been really supportive of us."

"And really creepy. Like, obsessive stalker creepy." Freddie retained a snicker. She was right—they'd received the weirdest messages in the entire history of iCarly. His mother was seriously considering upgrading their security. Yeah, like _that _was possible.

"Anyways," Carly continued. "About a week ago, one of you posted a comment on the website suggesting that everybody sit down and say our reactions to the relationships."

"You guys have problems," Sam muttered and Carly elbowed her.

"And that was a…very popular idea. So, after a week of…slight mayhem—"

"Don't under exaggerate, Carls—"

"We finally did it. Freddie?"

"Playback," Freddie murmured, backing to his computer and hitting the spacebar.

* * *

"So Carly, how do you feel about Gibby?" Sam asked in a bored tone on the other side of the camera. Carly's face turned up in a smile.

"He's the best," She said proudly. "He always makes me smile, even when I'm really down on life."

"Way to be cliché," Sam muttered. Carly sat awkwardly for a second until Sam cleared her throat and launched into her next question.

"How do you feel about Sam and Freddie's relationship?" She asked in a forced voice. Carly hesitated, shifting slightly in her chair.

"I guess it's the last thing I ever expected," She murmured. "But if it makes them happy, then it makes them happy."

* * *

"So Freddie," Carly said happily from behind the camera. "What do you think of Carly and Gibby's relationship?"

"It's cool, I guess. I mean, a little…surprising, but I don't have a problem with it." He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at the camera, daring her to ask the next question with his eyes.

"How do you feel about Sam?"

"I like her."

"Is that it?"

"Well, I mean, it's been awesome being together. But it's still Sam. She still hits me. She still picks on me. The only difference is that she lets me hold her hand and hug her goodbye. But then again, it would be weird if anything other than that did change. Can you imagine her _not _causing me emotional and physical pain?"

* * *

"Sam," Freddie said. "How do you feel about Carly and Gibby's relationship?"

"Gross," Sam replied lamely.

"Care to elaborate?"

"_Really _gross."

"Okay then. How do you feel about Freddie?"

Sam gave a sigh, staring into the camera.

"You're joking, right?"

"Sam—" Freddie started in that condescending tone. Sam sighed again and leaned forward a bit in her chair.

"He's holding me captive. Anyone who's watching this, please come and rescue me. I haven't eaten in weeks—"

"Sam!"

"Oh, come on, Freddie! It's my personal chiz, why should they know how I feel?"

"They wanted to know! They're the fans, and as webshow hosts we have the duty to—"

"I'll give them duty," She said a bit angrily, standing up and making her way to the camera.

"Come on, Sam, stop it, don't turn the camera—"

* * *

"So Gibby," Freddie asked. "How do you feel about Carly?"

"Um, good?" He answered, raising an eyebrow.

"Right. And how do you feel about Sam and Freddie's relationship?"

"Scared."

"Thanks for the support."

"Anytime, dude."

* * *

"Sort of weird that Gibby and Carly are together," Spencer said, lounging in the same purple chair as the rest of the group had. "But as long as she's not dating anybody else, I'm cool with it."

"Thanks Spence," Carly muttered, away from view. "And how about Sam and Freddie?"

"Really _freaky. _I mean, did anybody see that coming? But… I guess… love hate relationships are all the rage nowadays. You crazy kids."

"You're practically a kid too, you know. Or you act like it." Spencer looked falsely hurt, clutching a hand to his chest.

"Carly! I am _very _mature."

In the background, Freddie started to laugh.

* * *

"Now Guppy," Spencer was saying in a very slow voice while the little boy sat on the chair, looking hopelessly confused. "How do you feel about your big brother dating Carly?"

Guppy sat still for another second before a huge smile crossed his face.

"Happy birfday!"

* * *

**Pam Puckett failed to show for this interview.**

**

* * *

**"As Gibby's mother, how do you feel about his relationship with Carly?"

"Carly is a nice girl," Gibby's mom replied. "I think Carly will be good for Gibby."

"And how about Sam and Freddie?"

"Um… who exactly are they?"

"Never mind," Sam said happily.

* * *

"Who cares about Gibby and Carly? It's my son's relationship with that…delinquent I'm worried about!"

"Mom—" Freddie started, sounding irritated.

"And what about these creepy people on your iCarly website, huh? Saying that they…well, let's just say a lot of people like you, young man. And inappropriately too! If I were that Sam girl, I'd be worried about my boyfriend—"

"Trust me, Mom. Sam can handle it."

"You need to get these fans in order! They're completely nuts!"

"You're completely nuts!"

"Freddie Benson! Take that back right now!"

"Oh, come on Mom, it was a joke…"

In the background, Sam and Carly were laughing ridiculously loud.

* * *

An hour after the webcast, Carly Shay and Gibby Gibson sat on her couch, snuggled under the same blanket, fast asleep while a boring movie played on the television. Spencer Shay came bouncing out of his room, on the hunt for a midnight snack, and paused at the scene. Very quietly, he padded across the room, turned off the television, and kissed his little sister's forehead.

Out in the hallway, Sam Puckett's arms were laced around Freddie Benson's neck, and their lips were crushed against each others. When she finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers.

"Hey, Puckett?"

"Yeah, Fredweird?"

"I think I love you."

"Ya know, I was just thinking the same thing."

**The End**


End file.
